


Back to Back to Back

by QueSeraAwesome



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Multi, Pelican full of lesbians on the run, Threesome - F/F/F, who kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Agent Connecticut leaves the Mother of Invention, she isn't alone this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to Back to Back

They’ve been out of the Project for two weeks, when it they get the news.

“Did I miss anything?” Tex asks when she gets back from a supply run.

She deposits the new supplies she managed to find for them on the table. CT signs tiredly, runs a hand through her hair. Tex runs a hand through her hair too, enjoying the way CT tilts her head against her palm.

“We picked up a UNSC transmission about the FLP,” CT says. “Good news, they don’t have a team coming after us, at least not yet.”

“So, what’s the bad news?”

CT tilts her head under Tex’s palm again in an obvious request. Tex obligingly scratches lightly at her scalp, smooths her hair back down and lets her hand rest on the back of CT’s neck. It never stops amazing her, the amount of trust it must take for CT to let her do this, knowing what she is, what she can do. CT’s spine could be so much powder between her fingers and she just tilts her head back, seeking out that contact. Tex keeps her hands gentle, malleable in these moments.

CT pushes a missive into her line of sight, a report. Tex scans it.

“Your turn,” CT says simply.

Tex sighs.

*

Tex follows the sound of violence to South. It’s generally how she finds her.

She’s beating up a crate. A metal crate. They don’t’ really have a gym readily available anymore. Tex guesses a crate was the best replacement for a punching bag she could find. She’s still in armor, she’s not stupid, but Tex still wonders at the state of her hands under titanium alloy and reinforced Kevlar. The crate itself is definitely worse for wear, it’s formerly smooth surface pocked with shallow dents. Tex leans against the doorway, watches her for a long minute.

“What the fuck do you want,” South grits out.

She hadn’t given any sign of seeing Tex enter, but Tex figures she probably should have known better by now.

“Go away.”

Tex doesn’t respond, just folds her arms over her chest, keeps her position in the doorway. South executes a brutal combo, spinning and kicking, sending the crate several feet. She spins on her heel and comes down hard, more blows thudding against the crate’s side. The paneling separates on one side in a jagged tear, the metal squealing in protest.

“It’s okay to be mad at him,” Tex says. “You can still love him and be pissed at him.”

“Shut the fuck up,” South snaps, increasing her assault on the crate. “You shut your fucking face.”

She hits the crate so hard it fucking dents around her fist, the glove trapped by the metal bending around it.

“Son of a fuckstick,” South snarls, trying to wrench herself free. That clearly isn’t going to work so she starts kicking the crate.

“South, fucking _stop_ it,” Tex snaps, going toward her. She’s going to actually hurt herself at this rate. “Let me—“

South keeps kicking until she’s free, bellowing frustration the entire time. She pivots away from Tex, puts her back to her and for a minute Tex thinks she’s managed to hurt herself after all, but her hands fly to her helmet, breaking the seal and then ripping it off, throwing it into the corner of the room. Her hair’s a mess, sticking up in every angle physically possible, mussed in the back into a rat’s nest. When she turns to Tex, her eyeliner is a mess, telling bruises reaching clear down to her cheekbones in places, the moisture on her face blurring its usually sharp, meticulous lines.

“Why didn’t he come after me?” South says. “Fucking asswipe.”

She doesn’t push her away when Tex folds her into a rough hug. She doesn’t hug back either, just folds her arms inward, covering her face. Tex holds her tight, probably too tight but neither of them complain.

“Maybe he can’t,” Tex says. “We don’t really know what’s happening over there.”

“Asshole son of a bitch,” South mutters, pretending like her breath isn’t hitching. “Coward dickmunch motherfucker.”

Tex keeps holding her too tight until her breath evens out and the swears fade away. She doesn’t let go until South lets her hands drop away from her face, push against her chest. She doesn’t even try to attempt a grope, a true sign that she’s really upset.

“He’s a dumbass,” South says.

“Well, that goes without saying,” Tex replies. “But—“

South shoots a glare at her, a I don’t wanna hear it look, but Tex barrels on anyway.

“Maybe he can’t,” Tex repeats. “They could have beefed up security, supervision of the AI’d Freelancers. Maybe he’s been put on lockdown. Maybe they put a tail on him.”

“Maybe we’ll need to go to him,” CT says from the doorway.

She’s put her armor on, helmet held loosely at her hip.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” South asks.

She goes to the corner, finds her own helmet but doesn’t put it back on yet. Her steps are still a touch too aggressive, too hard a cover for her fragility.

“It means, I think we should go after your brother,” CT says. She turns to Tex. “And Alpha. And Wash. We can’t just leave them there.”

“Who knows what that asshole’s got planned for them,” Tex says. South doesn’t so much as flinch as go very still. “I’m sure North is fine. It’s Alpha and Wash I’m worried about.”

“North has Theta,” CT continues for her. “Theta’s one of the more stable ones.”

“So we’re gonna break in?” South says. “Rescue people? Break shit? Take the bird down?”

“Are you going to be okay with this?” CT asks Tex.

Tex frowns, hear the questions she didn’t ask. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to stick with us? Sighing, she takes off her helmet too. This is a conversation they should all have face to face. She blinks in the harsh light of the warehouse, brushes her ponytail back over her shoulder.

“He’s hurting people,” Tex says. “We have to stop him. _I_ have to stop him. It’s because of me he’s doing any of this anyway.”

“It is fucking _not_ ,” South snaps. The two turn to her, surprised at her outburst. “He’s doing it because he’s an asshole.”

Tex nods, conceding the point.

“So you’re in?” CT asks.

Tex goes to her, looks her right in the eye.

“Of course I am,” she says. She leans down and kisses her on the forehead, a gentle press of lips. “I already made my choice.”

“Just checking,” CT says, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“So we’re gonna fuck ‘em all up, right?” South says, walking over to join them.

She hip checks Tex when she gets to them, but Tex recognizes it for the gesture of affection that it is.

“Yeah,” Tex says. “We’re gonna fuck ‘em up.”

She ducks in before South has a chance to dodge and presses a kiss against her cheekbone too.

“Christ, get off me,” South gripes, waving her off.

CT laughs, goes up on tiptoe to kiss her on the lips. For her, South submits quietly to the affection. Tex watches them, a smile pulling at her own lips.

For all this is still new-ish for all of them, for all they’re still figuring each other out, for everything else in their lives they have to deal with right now, she wouldn’t have this any other way.

“They don’t stand a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Queseraawesome.tumblr.com


End file.
